Ryan returned home to a full apartment and was immediately bombarded by four fully grown hockey players, a very intimidating experience. The guys all started asking questions at once.

“Who was that girl?”

“You said her name was Tessa, right?”

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

“Didn’t she say she got a job at MSG?”

A startled Ryan held up her hands in an attempt to end the onslaught. “Quiet!” She yelled, and everyone finally settled down. “That was my friend Tessa. She’s from Rochester too. She does not have a boyfriend and she’s gonna be a stat girl.” Ryan took a deep breath because she knew the boys weren’t going to like what she said next. “And she is off limits, so it doesn’t really matter anyway.” She flashed a bright smile before herding the depressed guys out the door, with Bick in particular looking like a lost puppy. Finally, Ryan grabbed a water from the fridge and plopped herself down on the couch next to Step, who was the only one who hadn’t attacked her at the door. She glanced at Step. “You don’t have any questions?”

“Did you get any groceries?” he asked with a straight face.

Ryan groaned. “God, is that all anyone cares about around here? Bathrooms and food?”

“Well, the guys seemed pretty interested in your friend.”

“Everyone’s interested in Tessa,” Ryan couldn’t keep a slight edge of jealousy out of her voice. “I can barely deal with them now. What are they going to be like when Tessa’s done with them.” She didn’t like this vein of conversation, and decided to change the subject. “You looking forward to the game tomorrow?”

Step’s face lit up. “Yeah. I mean, practice and scrimmages are alright, but the games are amazing, even if it’s just preseason. And a game against the Devils is always a good one.” At that moment,
Step didn’t know how right he was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next day was a blur for Ryan. She woke up early after a restless night and tried to keep her nerves in check through morning skate and the little bit of tape they watched. Before Ryan knew it, she was in the locker room of Madison Square Garden, preparing for the pregame skate. She would never forget the deafening roar that assaulted her ears when she stepped on the ice of MSG for the first time.

Step must have seen the awed look on her face. “Crazy, isn’t it?” he asked as they skated around their end of the rink. Ryan could only nod. “It never gets old.” He skated away to take a few shots on Hank while Ryan started stretching by the blue line. She looked the length of the ice at the rivals from the other side of the Hudson, the New Jersey Devils. Ryan had grown up hating the Devils and becoming a member of the Rangers organization had only fostered those feelings. Judging by the glances her opponents were shooting across the ice at Ryan, the Devils weren’t particularly fond of the Rangers.

Warm-up was soon over, and Torts was giving a fiery pregame speech. At least, Ryan assumed he was. Truthfully, she could barely focus enough to tie her skates and tape her stick, much less process her coach’s pregame rant. If Mac hadn’t elbowed her, she wouldn’t have known that her, Step, and Kreids were starting up front with Mac and Danny G back on defense. Hank, of course, would be in the net.

Ryan tried to focus as the National Anthem was sung and had calmed down significantly by the time everyone began lining up for the opening faceoff. Ryan skated to her spot on the right and flashed a smile to Bick, who was sitting on the bench a short distance away. That smiled quickly faded.

“Hey, Davis!” yelled Ryan Carter as he skated over to the edge of the faceoff circle. “I was just talking to Clarkson,” said indicating David Clarkson, “about you. He bet me a hundred bucks that you wouldn’t last the entire game.” Ryan looked across at him, and was greeted by an ugly smirk. “I said you wouldn’t last the period.” Ryan had no time to respond. The puck dropped and Ryan Davis made history by becoming the first woman to play in an NHL preseason game.

She was jostled by Carter, but motored past him trying to provide a passing target for Kreids, who had received a pass from Step off the faceoff. Knowing that Kreids could match her speed, Ryan skated as fast as she could, staying just half a stride behind him so she would stay onside. The pass eventually came, as Ryan knew it would. She surprised almost everyone when she didn’t shoot, and instead passed the puck back to Step, who had just arrived in the slot. The quick shot rang off the crossbar and rocketed into the netting over the glass as the crowd groaned over the near miss. Ryan had little time to lament the almost-goal before Carter finally caught up to her and crosschecked her across the back. Of course, a crowd soon gathered. Mac had skated all the down from the blue line to separate Carter from Ryan, but she knew better than to retaliate. As she skated away from the crowd, she heard Carter yell at her back.

“Davis, why don’t you give it up and get back in the kitchen!”

The taunt struck a sore spot for Ryan. Before she even knew what she was doing, Ryan brushed past Mac and threw her gloves to the ice. Carter accepted the challenge almost instantaneously, and Ryan made even more history as the first woman to fight in the NHL.

The crowd roared in Ryan’s ears as she dodged the first few punches from Carter. Her success was short lived however, as Carter soon landed a punch near her right eye. Ryan ignored the pain and pummeled the Devil forward with three successive, devastating blows. Carter’s grip grew slack and Ryan hit him on the chin with a quick left jab before he crumbled to the ice. Ryan began to skate the penalty box until the linesman grabbed the back of her jersey.

“Davis!” he yelled. “Go to the locker room to get stitched up.” It was only then that Ryan realized she was bleeding from a gash above her right eye. She skated over to the bench, getting a few congratulatory slaps on the back along the way.

In the locker room, she smiled when she saw the same trainer that treated her knee would be stitching her up. “You sure make a lot of enemies,” he observed as he cleaned blood out of the wound.

“Yeah. And I bet I’ll make a lot more real soon,” was Ryan’s reply before she had to clench her teeth against the pain of the needle piercing her skin. Hockey players didn’t use anesthetic, it took too long. And Ryan Davis was a hockey player.